


The Stars Will Be Shining For You, My Dear

by Merixcil



Category: Kpop - Fandom, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Homophobia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 08:58:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merixcil/pseuds/Merixcil
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seokjin feels too deeply and Namjoon too fleetingly, together they try to crash without burning.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Stars Will Be Shining For You, My Dear

There is star power in their futures that the winter streets of Seoul would not believe. With his shades and cool attitude Seokjin thinks that Namjoon already looks like a superstar, posing on cue and never smiling at the camera if he can avoid it. They have a life of security guards, dodging paparazzi and trying not to accumulate sasaeng fans to look forward to, set against a backdrop of sleepless night dominated by the all consuming ‘schedule’, but tonight the word ‘schedule’ is just a gruelling list of dance practice and vocal training that they can sigh over together, and the city is a goldmine of the life they’re doomed to leave behind. 

And the night is yet young.

Foggy breath threatens to steam up the camera but they’re pressed too close together for the culprit to be clear. 

“I blame you,” Seokjin whispers into Namjoon’s ear as smiles dance in his eyes. Namjoon doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even smile, but his slouch is different and right now that’s good enough. 

Back at the dorm there is food (hot ramyun, no dessert), it will be warm; but at the dorm there is a stack of lyrics and a tape full of ‘not quite there yet’ tracks that Namjoon won’t be able to put down and there is Yoongi who’ll make sure that he doesn’t change his mind. Seokjin hates the cold and he hates going hungry but the streets of Seoul are wide open for the taking and the light from the Seoul Station Lotte store is inviting, even if Namjoon will never admit it. 

“Why don’t you put that thing down?” Namjoon grumbles as Seokjin catalogues their ascent up the escalator and Seokjin laughs, throwing an arm over his shoulder,

“These moments are precious Namjoon,” he says, letting his breath slide over Namjoon’s cheek, “I want to remember ever detail.”

They throw victory signs for the camera and Namjoon can’t even manage a smile. Seokjin explains that he can take the video and make stills when they get home, that they can use the video camera much like their phones but Namjoon’s already powering ahead, on the prowl for food that they don’t have enough money for. 

It’s Seokjin who scores them a bowl of ddeokbokki even though they’re 1,000 won short, Namjoon tries reasoning with the girl behind the counter, promising that he’ll do some really dumb shit if she lets them eat but it does him no good. When Seokjin steps forward with his large eyes and pretty nose and everything that is the reason him and Namjoon are even friends in the first place she melts and agrees that his number is definitely worth a discount on their dinner. Seokjin refuses to let Namjoon handle the ricecakes himself and spends a happy ten minutes feeding his friend from a shared pair of wooden chopsticks. 

They move on, unable to stay still for longer than the time it takes to realise that they are alone and unsupervised in the centre of Seoul. The strange thing about cities, Seokjin thinks, is that they never really get dark; they never leave you stranded in a world beyond your senses, but millions of people get lost in them every day. He wonders if Namjoon feels more lost here than in Ilsan or if Seoul with it’s easy subway system is easier to navigate. 

He wants Namjoon to tell him, to really talk to him about it, but it feels like if he asks it won’t count, so he settles for reaching out to link their arms together. Namjoon jumps, jerks away and then starts laughing. Loud, obnoxious, ‘look how dumb this guy is like I’d wanna hold hands with him’ laughter that sounds so fake Seokjin can’t help but laugh back. He has it all on tape though, he wonders if Yoongi would be able to spot the sarcasm. 

When Namjoon finally plucks up the courage to steal the camera the evening takes a turn for the exasperating. He films Seokjin walking like it’s high art and forces them both to keep time as the camera spins corkscrews in Namdaemyun. There must be a reason that this could be dangerous, but rack his brain as he might, Seokjin can see no alternative other than to keep up, helplessly, with Namjoon. 

“Let’s get out of here, I want to see the river,” Namjoon says, too close. He steps out of Seokjin’s personal space before he can react and though his eyes are hidden behind dark glasses his shoulders rise and fall too fast. 

And Seokjin’s just keeping up with him, what can he do but agree?

 

He was wrong about cities at it turns out. The walk from Apgujong to the Han is short but despite its proximity to the dizzying buzz of Hongdae it’s darker than Seokjin’s city eyes know what to do with. The river is wide and intimidating; the lights of Gangnam visible across the blackened water, the YG headquarters too close for comfort behind them. 

It’s not like London, or Tokyo, or New York or Hongkong whose photos Seokjin pines over, resplendent with their rivers reflecting the illuminate nightlife back to the skies, as if they were the very heart and soul of the cities. The Han is a different beast altogether, not so much the heart of Seoul as the crack that divides the north from the south and what was once the rich and the poor. They stand on the side of the old rich and wonder what it takes to get to the new. 

“I’d sooner tear it down than live there,” Namjoon mutters. 

Seokjin leans his head on Namjoon’s shoulder and reaches for his hand. Things are different here, in the dark of Dongho Bridge and he knows Namjoon will let him, knows the exact mechanism that will twist their fingers together too tight to be comfortable and will make them all but forget how to let go. He knows why they do this in the dark, but he wishes there were another way. 

“What do you think Yoongi would do if he knew?” Seokjin asks, voice barely above a whisper so that Namjoon has to really be listening to him to catch his breath, “what would Hoseok do?”

Namjoon says nothing, but his grip gets tighter and his breathing hitches, Seokjin wishes he could take it back. 

Slowly, tenderly, like picking orchids, Seokjin reaches up and removes Namjoon’s sunglasses. Namjoon blinks down at him and Seokjin wants to know his eyes better, wants it to not be a chore to recall how they fit into his face around his thick eyebrows, his flared nose, his puffy lips. Seokjin sits up, looks him straight in the eyes and tries to sear the image into his memory. 

It’s cold enough that breathing leaves its mark on the air in puffs of quickly dissipating steam. Their shared air joins in the ever decreasing space between their lips and floats away, untouchable, unobtainable, vanishing in a matter of minutes. Seokjin wants to watch it go but he hates to see it gone, so he focuses on the way Namjoon’s hand slides into his hair to cup the back of his head and lets himself be led. 

They kiss like it is the first time and the last time all at once, Seokjin tentative and Namjoon desperate, longing, their mouths open and their tongues dancing before they have a chance to practice self control. Namjoon inhales hard enough to take Seokjin’s breath away and Seokjin presses their lips tighter, gasping for air. 

Time slides away from them, lost between the moment Seokjin climbs into Namjoon’s lap and the moment they realise the sun is on the move. Namjoon looks up at him and Seokjin knows what the clamour of his heart and the aching in his gaze means,

“Namjoon…”

“I…hyeong…Seokjin…I want…..”

“Me too,” Seokjin whispers, grabbing Namjoon’s hand and pulling him to his feet. They should go back now, try to crawl into bed and bluff sleep into their schedule for the sake of their dance tutor. Namjoon looks disappointed enough to have come to similar conclusions, his eyes finding the floor and his shoulders sagging and Seokjin decides that sleep can wait. 

His feet shouldn’t know this route so well, shouldn’t know this route at all. They move quickly through the Apgujong backstreets, Seokjin leading Namjoon by a hand he doesn’t want to let go of, heart pounding with nerves, with excitement. 

When they arrive, they bare the judging sneer of the girl at the front desk and despite having had no money for food, manage to scrape together enough cash to pay for their stay – 2 hours – too much time to avoid a bollocking at home, not enough time for either of them. 

People have always told Seokjin that sex and love are two different things and right now Seokjin wants to tell them that they are all idiots. The way that Namjoon’s voice shatters into ragged moans, the way they arch and flex and collide against each other, the way that his world shrinks until there’s nothing left but this bed and this ever building sensation of euphoria and Namjoon, there’s no way it’s not love. Naked skin slides across his own in just the right way that he sees stars and the exquisite thrumming of his heart threatens to drag him under. 

And when they lie together, bodies still hopelessly entwined and breath calming, Seokjin thinks that for all the time spent singing, dancing, trying to be an idol, this is all he really needs to be happy. 

There’s no room for ‘I Love You’s, but Namjoon grins at him and Seokjin grins back, dragging him forward by his bare shoulders, and it’s enough. Namjoon fits everything into the nonexistent space between their lips, and in the early morning sunshine Seokjin feels cataclysmic warmth spread out from his heart, engulfing him. 

 

When they walk through the door, hair still messy and trying desperately to hide the smell of each other under layers of cheap deodorant, Hoseok is pulling on his shoes, ready to leave for the day. He scowls at the pair of them and leaves muttering about how it’s ‘alright for some’. They hang up their coats and dash for the shower, sharing but taking care not to touch too much, to ignore the briefest contact of bare skin on bare skin. It’s too dangerous here, much as the itch to be as close as they can be is profound enough to hurt. 

Yoongi catches them as they leave the bathroom, holding up a box of condoms and a tube of lube out accusingly, demanding to know which girls they’d been with that were ‘kinky enough to try anal’. Seokjin’s heart jumps into his mouth and he can’t choke out the right words around it, Namjoon scowls and pulls the offending objects out of Yoongi’s hand, telling him to mind his own business. 

When they get to their dance rehearsal, half an hour late and asleep on their feet, Namjoon stands as far away from Seokjin as possible. 

 

The moment that Yoongi puts two and two together is horrible. He’s talking to Hoseok in an unnecessarily loud voice, regaling him with the tale of how late home Namjoon and Seokjin had been, clearly trying to get himself heard so that he can land the pair of them in shit. 

“…so I decided I’d take a little look in Seokjin’s pockets and guess what I found? No Hoseok not just condoms, the kinky shit had lube in there!” Hoseok’s jaw drops and Yoongi starts to giggle, but it only lasts for a second before Yoongi sits up very, very straight. 

His gaze travels from Seokjin, to Namjoon, then back to Seokjin. “No way,” he breathes. 

Seokjin sees Namjoon tense up out of the corner of his eye and spends the rest of the day trying not to scream.

 

The pair of them spend the next few weeks being alternately ignored and harassed by their would-be bandmates and Namjoon shuts down. He spends extra hours in the studio in an attempt to avoid coming home and Seokjin finds himself crying over dinner when Hoseok asks who ‘the woman’ is out of the two of them. They don’t let up and they never, ever stop finding it funny, even when Namjoon throws a plate at Yoongi’s head, missing him by inches.

On the one day that they find themselves alone for the afternoon they fuck on Yoongi’s bed just to spite him, but this time the emotional ecstasy that Seokjin remembers from before is lost and they pull away too quickly so that they can shower separately. He lies alone in his bed that night and suffocates his sobs with his pillow, wishing Namjoon would look at him like he used to under the bridge in Apgujong. 

 

It all fades in time, they're joined by new members and suddenly the fact that two of their number have known each other intimately isn't all that funny. Yoongi still glares when they stand too close and Hoseok still needs to carefully sidestep any and all conversations to do with 'being a homo' but it's bearable.

“I’m going out for a while!” Seokjin calls to the mass of boys on the couch, Yoongi, Hoseok and Namjoon now joined by Jimin, Jungkook and Taehyung. They barely look up from whatever bullshit variety show it is their watching, grunts of ascent his only acknowledgement that they’ve heard him.

“Have a good evening,” he follows, lamely, and Namjoon looks over at him, his sunglasses off and a grin straddling his face. Seokjin wants him to want to come with him, wants him to get up and leave the rest of them behind and to fuck what Min Yoongi and Jung Hoseok think. He wants Namjoon to come kiss him under their own secret stars.

But Namjoon just waves, tells Seokjin to have a good time and to not be back too late and Seokjin has to try not to run over and hit him. 

Instead he runs to the subway, runs down the hill to the Han river. He sits in the dark, under Dongho bridge, connecting the north and the south and wishes he knew how to exorcise the hideous sensation of idiocy and jilted affection that is threatening to consume him. 

The waters are dark and the skies are darker, not a star in sight, because no matter where you go it is never dark in a city. Seokjin breathes deep and lets the warmth blooming in his heart go cold, twisting his fingers around each other, trying to remember what it felt like to never want to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel it is essential that I preface this by saying that I DO NOT BELIEVE THAT MIN YOONGI AND JUNG HOSEOK ARE HOMOPHOBIC DOUCHEBAGS NOR HAVE I EVER SEEN ANY EVIDENCE SUGGESTING THAT THIS IS THE CASE but for the sake of this fic someone needed to engage in homphobic douchery and they were unfortunately the people who the task fell upon.
> 
> This was written in an afternoon after discovering [this](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UqqGgtfEAK0) predebut video that gave me one or two JinMon feels (I already shipped them pretty hardcore but....just watch the video) but clearly I was favouring angst at the time because this was what I produced. 
> 
> This is being posted completely unbetad and so any and all constructive criticism is much welcome!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [you shine so brightly even the stars are in awe](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12527540) by [writing_way_too_much](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_way_too_much/pseuds/writing_way_too_much)




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